


The Lucky Ones

by Brucenorris007



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Danny Phantom, Gravity Falls, Kim Possible (Cartoon), She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018), The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: All the fluff I can stand, All the fluff you can stand, Author has not watched She-Ra, Camila is an overworked single parent, Eda Clawthorne is canonically allergic to cute, F/F, F/M, Just... mentioned, Likes what he's heard though, Perfuma speaks once, Priscilla and Preston Northwest are the worst, Probably no lines of dialog, Probably other tags to be added, The other princesses are present, With the tiniest smattering of angst to make it palatable, Yes Danny does mean that Leo, and read, so there's that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26806075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brucenorris007/pseuds/Brucenorris007
Summary: “You know,” she said slowly, chewing on her thoughts. “Luz’s girlfriend hasn’t been to a human dance before.”Catra raised an eyebrow at her.“Howdoyou think Amity would feel about prom?”
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Amity Blight/Luz Noceda, Kim Possible/Ron Stoppable, Korra/Asami Sato
Comments: 7
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is, if not the most self-indulgent piece I've written, certainly the most self-indulgent piece I've ever posted.
> 
> A week ago I woke up, suddenly twenty-six and I thought 'Wouldn't this be absolutely beautiful?' It put a smile on my face that stuck.
> 
> That's been pretty uncommon in recent months. 
> 
> This shares in a universe I've more or less concocted in my head, but don't have anything to do with yet. 
> 
> This will only have one, maybe two more parts. 
> 
> Anyway... here it is. 
> 
> *Bows*

Adora broke from her teammates, taking her position and gearing herself up for the final push. One way or another, it would be her last play in high school, and she wanted to go out on a high note.

A difference of one point stood between the Rebels and victory. They’d just scored a touchdown- she intended to score a two-point conversion. Despite all common sense that told her to kick, despite their coach’s advice. She’d expected at least _some_ resistance, but her team had only traded looks and backed her up.

“Your call, Captain.”

Across from her, Octavia, the Horde’s most aggressive player, stared her down, hissing in a venomous tone.

“I’m coming for you, _Princess_.”

A year ago, Adora would have bristled at the implied insult. She had, in fact, and had almost given Octavia the fight she’d been _sorely_ asking for. To be fair, only three of her teammates had to hold her back, and she’d only reared up to attack after Octavia moved on from taunting her to spouting crap about Catra.

Which… No. Regardless of any tensions or issues they used to have, Adora would not abide by that from anybody.

Now, though, Adora’s mind was focused on two far more important things- winning, and the girl wearing her letterman jacket in the bleachers. 

Octavia didn’t even rate a blip on her radar as anything more than an obstacle.

Everything happened in a matter of seconds. The break, the fake, and then Adora had the ball in her hands and she _ran_. Without a lot of time, and practically zero space to work with unless she moved backwards, and a snarling mass of muscle and misdirected anger barreling toward her, she improvised.

Adora jumped, _toward_ Octavia, practically rolling sideways over the taller girl’s left shoulder. Octavia tried and failed to maintain a grip as the blond swung her feet down to land awkwardly on one foot, kicking to push that final short distance, then-

She crashed down, just barely keeping her chin from skidding across the turf, eyes squeezed shut against the impact.

A buzzer.

A whistle.

The crowd collectively lost its _mind_.

“ _SHE-RA! SHE-RA!_ ”

Adora leapt to her feet, throwing her fists in the air just as her teammates mobbed her. 

—————

Catra cheered as loud as anyone once the game was called. She didn’t even complain when both Luz _and_ Scorpia assaulted her with celebratory hugs from both sides. She was in the middle of extricating herself when Bow’s voice caught her ear.

“Hey, uh, anybody know what Adora’s doing?”

Catra looked up, one hand still in Scorpia’s face. Adora, helmet abandoned, had broken off from her teammates, running back up the field toward the center. She veered slightly, headed _directly_ toward the bleachers at a dead sprint.

Catra watched her Advanced Placement girlfriend take a _flying leap_ toward the chain link fence at the bottom of the stands like an absolute dumbass, arms stretched out to catch onto the railing.

“Holy shit!” Sparkles blurted.

Adora hoisted herself upward, suspended probably eight feet above the ground and supporting herself with no visible strain, despite having played through the whole game. Catra kept the _things_ her girlfriend’s muscles did to her completely internalized.

“CATRA!”

Adora shouted, swinging her legs over and shaking the stands once she landed, practically bounding toward her. Having made her objective clear, the crowd of their classmates was willing to let her pass without mobbing their champion. Catra, with Luz’s insistent hand swatting at her shoulder, hopped up in her seat and crawled over people to meet Adora halfway. 

_‘Oh God, this is actually happening.’_

While the commentary in her head came across as long-suffering, Catra definitely beamed right back at Adora once they were just a few feet apart. She skipped down several stairs to reach her faster, and Adora scooped her up easily, hands locked beneath her butt. 

“Will you go to prom with me?”

Catra stared down at her girlfriend for two full seconds, just processing. Out of all the ways she thought Adora might ask her, _this_ hadn’t been anywhere on the list. The sheer spontaneity of it shocked her. She snorted and broke out laughing.

“You’re so fucking _extra._ ”

Catra smoothed her hands over Adora’s stupid hair poof, swept one down behind her neck and held the other against her jaw. She craned her head down and kissed her. Plenty of wolf whistles sounded off around them, which she blithely and blatantly ignored.

Catra broke off with a satisfied hum, forehead pressed against Adora’s. Big blue eyes shone back at her.

“Is that a yes?” Adora asked, smiling.

“ _Yes_ , you big dork.”

A second round of cheers went up, not that either of them were paying much attention.

“Netossa’s yelling at me, isn’t she?” Adora asked, letting Catra down to her feet gently.

“ _GRAYSKULL_! Get your ass back down here!”

“Mmm, yeah. She sounds a little huffy. Can’t imagine why.” Catra teased, nuzzling her nose against Adora’s cheek.

“Kay,” she said, squeezing Catra’s hands and pulling back. “Be back soon.”

Catra did not grin like a dope after her girlfriend.

She _did_ get affectionately assaulted by Scorpia again.

—————

Luz Noceda hadn’t entered high school expecting to make friends easily, let alone falling in with the coolest group of humans (important distinction, in her life) ever. Going back to normal school after almost two months at Hexside was… underwhelming, and a little disappointing. Telling her mom about everything after a summer of omitted truths had been even harder than finding a way back to Earth (Luz still waffled about saying ‘home’, even months later.) Having Eda with her helped, and when Camila balked at Luz’s argument that she wanted to _keep_ being an apprentice, the Owl Lady rolled her eyes and said

“Okay, kiddo, I’m bored of this conversation already- demonstration time!”

Personally, Luz could’ve done without her mentor kidnapping her mom for a quick flight over the Boiling Isles. Camila had screamed more than a few choice words in Spanish, which had Eda cackling, of course. Eda let Luz take over steering, though, and that _had_ helped win Camila over. 

Sort of. 

Somehow.

Or maybe it had more to do with introducing Amity as her girlfriend immediately after that.

Either way, her mom did want Luz to get a high school diploma. Which she’d have to do on top of her studies for the tracks at Hexside. Luz had been so ecstatic to have gotten any compromise at all that she agreed immediately. Which might have been… a _wee little_ shortsighted.

Still! It meant she could keep up with her friends, and she didn’t have to be long-distance with Amity all the time. Luz could bear to suffer through being the ‘weirdo’ again for a good cause. 

The first week had been rough. She’d almost gotten used to people like Boscha being the exception rather than the rule. Luz could deal with teenage angst and the resultant acting out- having been essentially friendless prior to the portal, she had more perspective in that regard than many of her peers. What stunk was that going back to normal, where her introductions fell flat and people would rather whisper about her than talk to her, just made her miss everyone on the Boiling Isles that much more. She didn’t even have any way to contact them during the day.

While her mom had accepted her request for weekend visits, if only because regularly seeing Willow, Gus, Viney and Amity was Luz’s _sole_ prayer of keeping up at Hexside, she missed being able to hang out. 

She’d more or less resigned herself to slogging through nine months of absolutely soul-sucking drudgery for the next four years when she met her locker neighbor for the first time.

Catra had caught Luz entirely by surprise. She’d actually jumped when someone tugged, not aggressively, on the hood of her hoodie and flipped it over her head. 

“Jumpy, huh? Must be a freshman.”

Luz didn’t know what to make of her first impression of the older girl- she wore dark sunglasses despite the cloudy fall morning, and carried a cup of coffee in one hand while she grumbled at her locker with the other. Luz had suspected, correctly, that caffeinated drinks, let alone from off-campus, were at least somewhat discouraged, if not entirely against the rules. 

Points for being a bit of a rebel, but she couldn’t tell if messing with her hoodie counted as friendly teasing or not. 

“ _Hola_ neighbor,” she said regardless. “Call me Noceda, Luz Noceda!”

Catra, still glowering at her locker like it had offended her, tilted her shades back and nested them in her short, messy hair. She glanced sideways as she punched the door, finally achieving access.

“Catra,” she said, terse though not unkind, hoisting her bag off one shoulder and shoving several things inside. Luz waited, wondering at several things, her mind finally settling on the older girl’s last name- the lockers were assigned alphabetically- before she spoke again, shutting the locker. “Just Catra.”

Catra gave her a second look, mismatched gold and turquoise eyes lingering somewhere over Luz’s head. She smirked.

“Those cat ears?”

Luz nodded, tired and a little shocked they were still talking.

“Fucking hilarious,” Catra said. She glanced up the hall toward one of the clocks. “Which lunch do you have?”

“Um, C lunch.”

“Great. Come sit with us- look for a friendly giant. She’s got a white undercut. Later.”

The senior had walked off without giving Luz a chance to agree or disagree. 

With nothing to lose, though, she’d gone to lunch that day looking for a girl with an undercut. Scorpia was hard to miss, and, to Luz’s delight, enjoyed hugs just as much as she did. 

“Okay losers,” Catra said, and while her words were harsh on the surface, an undercurrent of fondness ran through them. “This is Luz. I know exactly two things about her- she’s a freshman and she likes cats. I’m adopting her. Questions? Concerns? No? Perfect.”

A freckled blond girl- Perfuma, she learned later- had sighed at Catra’s quick, open-and-shut intro. 

“Did you ask Luz if she wanted to join us?”

Catra had rolled her eyes and glanced at Luz.

“You got somewhere else you wanna be?”

Luz did not have anywhere else, at least not on school grounds. 

The rest was more or less history. Luz didn’t share any classes with the Best Friend Squad (Bow, Glimmer, Adora and Catra) or the Super Pal Trio (Scorpia, Entrapta and… Catra), or any of their friends, seeing as they were all either juniors or seniors. She got lucky, though, and shared the same lunch block with at least some of them all throughout the year. They helped her cope with the back and forth between ‘Witch Apprentice’ Luz and ‘Just Human’ Luz. And they distracted her from thinking too much about the future.

Case in point, she ignored her looming curfew and pickup time, when she’d be back in her room- not alone in the house, but nonetheless stuck with her thoughts. She laughed at Glimmer’s puffed-up, probably exaggerated indignation over Adora’s impromptu prom-posal. Catra’s cat, Melog, nuzzled against her leg, and she scratched behind his ears. 

“We went over _plans_ ,” Glimmer huffed, arms crossed. Bow looked on, expression mostly neutral though faintly amused. Even semi-agitated, Glimmer still reclined against his shoulder. “You kept calling me for weeks, adjusted and plotted a dozen different ideas, and then, _suddenly_ , you just decided to _wing it_? What the hell, Adora?”

“Sorry!” Adora laughed, sounding only halfway contrite. “I was just riding the high after winning and I thought ‘I could do _anything_ right now!’ So, you know… I did.” She turned to Catra, who sat with her legs thrown across Adora’s lap, fingers intertwined with hers on the sofa’s backrest. “I guess I might have put you on the spot, though.” She said, frowning a little.

Catra snorted.

“Oh, yeah,” she drawled, smirking lazily at the blond. “I was just _mortified_ that the team’s gorgeous MVP called out to _me_ in front of a crowd.”

“It was pretty cute.” Bow said, smiling. 

“If anything, it’s Luz’s fault,” Adora said, teasing. “She said I should do something spontaneous.”

Catra ruffled Luz’s hair approvingly with her free hand. 

“Don’t try to shift blame onto Luz,” Glimmer said, chiding. “She’s a precious, innocent babe.”

Luz forced a chuckle. She didn’t mind the teasing- it just reminded her that, even as great as the year had turned out, it wouldn’t last. Most of them would graduate, and she’d lose the majority of her human world support system. She could barely keep up with all the tracks at Hexside, and she couldn’t let her grades in human school slip without hearing her mom’s subtle suggestions of narrowing her focus in magic school. Luz had to make a choice soon, and she was scared someone would end up disappointed.

“You tired?”

Luz blinked, sitting upright again. Melog’s warmth in her lap and Catra’s gentle ministrations were too soothing. 

“I’m fine,” she said brightly, clenching her jaw against a gaping yawn. She quickly came up with a not-quite-lie to distract Catra from her open concern. “I was just wondering what my Hexside friends would think of prom.”

Precisely none of them bought into her deflection, and she knew it, but they were awesome, so Adora played along. 

“Didn’t you take Amity to one at your witch school before?”

Luz shrugged.

“Sort of. Grom wasn’t that different, I guess. Except they choose the King or Queen before the actual dance, and whoever’s chosen has to fight the Fear Bringer, who transforms into your worst fear. Everyone else gets to party- that was a fun night.” She sighed, smiling. “Might’ve been nice to just dance without having a monster hanging over our heads, though.”

Silence followed Luz’s abridged tale for several seconds. 

“I worry about you sometimes.” Bow said. Not a derogatory comment, just a genuine expression of concern. 

Luz chuckled. 

“That’s not even the weirdest thing that’s happened,” she said, waving her hand. She canted forward, excited at the chance to talk about the Boiling Isles. “This one time, I was trying to find a substitute for peanut butter and”

Her phone buzzed with a text.

“Oh, Mom’s here.” 

—————

Adora saw Luz out with Catra. She watched her girlfriend watch the Noceda’s back out of Scorpia’s driveway. She looped one arm gently around her waist, and Catra leaned into her immediately, accepting comfort. 

“She doesn’t belong here.” Catra murmured.

Adora wrapped her up in a proper hug. 

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, Adora,” Catra said. “She’s _miserable_.”

“I dunno,” Adora said, halfway smiling. “She seems pretty fond of us.”

“Well obviously,” Catra huffed, stepping back with a smirk. “She’s okay with you and me around- we’re awesome.”

Adora raised an eyebrow.

“Fine,” Catra rolled her eyes. “Your friends are all right, too.”

“ _Our_ friends.” Adora corrected her, though she knew she didn’t have to.

Adora had been surprised when Catra announced, without preamble, that one Luz Noceda was ‘one of theirs now’. Surprised, and overjoyed. That Catra felt comfortable adding to the group meant she also felt confident that _she_ belonged to the group. Heartening progress compared to a year and a half ago, when Catra could charitably be described as prickly with anybody other than Scorpia or Entrapta on her very best days.

Catra’s teasing smirk fell away and she sighed. 

“It’s not _enough_ , though.”

Adora bit her lip. Though she wished otherwise, she had to agree.

At a glance, Luz was energetic, bright, funny… and overworked. _Seriously_ overworked, especially for a freshman. Nobody was ever meant to take on the equivalent of two high school course loads simultaneously. They all tried to help out- Adora offered to come up with a system to keep ‘human school’ assignments, tests and projects organized and prioritized. All of them made sure she ate something at lunch, which Luz typically treated as interchangeable with nap time. Catra even let her use basically her entire person as a pillow, a privilege formerly only extended to Adora as Catra’s girlfriend. And, of course, they let her speak freely about her time on the Boiling Isles.

None of that truly addressed the problem, though, and Adora knew it bothered Catra more than she let on. The way her girlfriend interacted with and cared for Luz had been ridiculously endearing to watch. Catra didn’t talk down to her for being younger, or exclude her from what they were doing- if anything, she made sure Luz knew whenever they were hanging out without pressuring her. 

The first time Luz called Catra _mi hermana_ , she’d practically glowed. She still sent Glimmer smug grins over it. 

But while they could listen, they couldn’t really relate to Luz’s magical experiences. They weren’t witches, and they couldn’t perform magic like Luz- Bow and Entrapta had tried, multiple times, if for different reasons. 

“Did you talk to her about getting a GED?” Adora asked.

Catra ran a hand through her hair.

“I brought it up, yeah,” she said. “She said she’d think about it. I doubt she’s mentioned it to her mom yet.”

Catra frowned. Adora knew she still had… complicated feelings about ‘adults’ and authority figures, parental ones in particular. After Weaver and Hordak, no one could blame her. Nonetheless, Adora knew Ms. Noceda wouldn’t intentionally set Luz up to crash on a weekly basis. Telling Catra that would just get her hackles up, though, and wouldn’t help anybody. 

It was discouraging to think they were only good for providing the younger girl a distraction. 

Adora blinked. An idea popped into her head.

“You know,” she said slowly, chewing on her thoughts. “Luz’s girlfriend hasn’t been to a human dance before.”

Catra raised an eyebrow at her.

“How _do_ you think Amity would feel about prom?”

Mismatched eyes sparked with realization, and Catra’s expression turned sly. Adora could feel her smile grow to match. It was like they were kids again, plotting mischief they could get into without getting caught. 

“I am her sister,” Catra said. “I couldn’t let her drop out of high school without going to at least one dance, right? Might as well be the biggest one.”

Adora nodded, grinning as she pretended to hum in thought.

“Do we know anybody with connections who could set up an epic night?”

At the same time, they said

“Dribble Dragon.”

—————

“Asami~! Whenever you get a minute.”

“I’ll give you two,” Asami said, stretching and closing her laptop. She stood up from her desk and slid down beside Korra on the sofa. She pressed their shoulders together, craving contact after hours working from home. Korra, the perfect girlfriend, indulged her every time, lifting her arm to tug Asami closer. “Just because I like you.”

Bonus, Korra had just showered, and smelled wonderful. 

“And I am so glad you do.” Korra said, still looking at her phone. “Quick question- how do you feel about attending a high school event as my plus one?”

Asami hummed. Neither of them were due a reunion for another four years. 

“Something for Adora, I’m guessing?”

Chances were usually good that anytime Korra mentioned high school, Adora was involved somehow. Korra had been several things to Adora- babysitter, unofficial coach and somewhat of an idol. Adora was Korra’s fan before she ever started playing soccer professionally, even before people began calling her the Dribble Dragon. Korra was stoked when Adora won her first football game, even if she hadn’t been present to see it. 

Korra grinned.

“Apparently she’s conspiring with her friends to make their senior prom as awesome as possible.”

She looked at Asami.

“Got an email from the school asking me about chaperoning an hour ago. Will you go with me?”

Asami hummed, pretending to deliberate. In all honesty, she just stalled for the chance to watch Korra’s eyes- sapphires reflecting the vast depth and breadth of the ocean. 

“Of course.”

Korra’s face broke out into Asami’s favorite smile. The kind that made flowers bloom. She shifted, pressing her body closer. Korra, eagerly receptive, reclined further against the couch, one hand coming up to the back of Asami’s neck, fingers threading in her hair. She leaned in-

Her phone went off with the Benny Hill ringtone she’d set for Varrick. She dropped her forehead to the crook of Korra’s neck with a groan.

“Go ahead,” Korra said, halfway laughing as she sat up again. “I’ve got some emails to answer and a couple calls to make. Takeout?”

“Takeout.”

—————

_“Hi, is this Kim Possible’s boyfriend?”_

Ron Stoppable huffed good-naturedly. 

“Comments like that are why you’re still saved as ‘Slide Tackle’ in my phone.”

Korra laughed. 

Team Possible met her in person the first time on a mission- for Sato Industries, of all things. A little more grounded than their usual action, they’d been called in to investigate and stop a strain of sabotage, physical and digital. Wade naturally took care of the latter in record time, leaving them to catch the culprit.

Korra had been on an evening run that coincided with the chase scene, and helped bring the guy down. Ron’s first interaction with the upcoming soccer superstar went something like

( _“Thanks- OH MY GOD, YOU’RE THE DRIBBLE DRAGON!”_ )

While much more outwardly composed, Korra had posted a record two times to social media that night. 

_(“First thought- Holy shit, Kim Possible’s boyfriend watches my games!”_ )

Followed shortly by

( _“Second thought- AAAHH! I JUST MET KIM POSSIBLE!”_ )

Which was, frankly, pretty standard fare. Ron had just appreciated getting recognition as something other than Kim’s tagalong. Or Buffoon, as Drakken _still_ called him.

Korra, of course, knew Ron’s name. She just teased him about it. 

“Didja have a reason to interrupt my night off? Or did you just call to make fun of me?” Ron asked, delving into his homemade nachos. He didn’t eat them as often as he’d like, but then, he hadn’t been a teenager for years. He and Rufus savored them when they did indulge. “If you’re looking for KP, she’s kinda busy being on TV right now.”

Kim’s morning interview- she’d been in London anyway- ran in the background of the Possible-Stoppable apartment. 

_“Actually,”_ Korra said. _“I’m more interested in Ron ‘Party Animal’ Stoppable right now. There’s a”_

“I _told_ you,” Ron interrupted, groaning. “I told everyone, the camel incident was a _one-time_ thing! No one told me piña coladas were made with rum!”

Rufus chittered and chuckled at him. The traitor. Ron tugged the plate of nachos away and he squawked. 

_“This won’t involve any alcohol,”_ Korra said, grin clear in her tone. _“Adora’s asking me to help turn her senior prom into an historic event. Much more low-key than the legendary camel incident.”_

Ron grunted. 

_“Anyway, ideas?”_

He hummed, a recurring idea- one that had taken several forms the past few years- popping into his head. He glanced toward the TV, already talking himself out of it when he noticed Kim’s expression.

“One sec, Korra.”

He turned up the volume- his girlfriend only got tweaked during interviews when he came up. Specifically, when he came up as ‘the sidekick’. He didn’t much mind anymore, and he had been a lot less coordinated and more fumbling when they started out. Changing people’s minds, often one at a time, took a while. The YouTube compilations of him losing his pants didn’t help.

Kim wasn’t quite as patient.

_“I get some variation of this question a lot,”_ Kim said, just a little tersely. _“So let me be clear. Ron Stoppable is, and has always been, an essential member of_ Team _Possible. He’s had my back since our first mission- since I first_ met _him, and there’s no one I trust more in the world._ Anyone _who finds their own Ron, whether they’re a man, woman or non-binary- you’re one of the lucky ones. I know I am.”_

Ron stared at the screen, the camera held on Kim’s face. The dissenting voices and doubts in his mind dissolved, leaving a tentative, though growing, determination behind. He traded a look with Rufus, who’d taken to regarding him oddly.

Korra’s voice asked after him again.

“Yeah,” he said, a little distractedly. He sat up, cutting off his glorious marination. He switched the call to speaker phone. “Yeah, I’m still here. I’ve, uh, got a couple ideas.”

He kept the call going as he collected several contacts from the ‘Anti-Apocalypse Squad’ chat into an offshoot text chain.

—————

“What do you think?”

Mabel looked away from her phone at Dipper, who spun around in his desk chair to face her. She’d snuck into his room with all her usual grace- only four snorts from Waddles and two creaking floorboards- when she saw the texts. 

On the one hand, separating them into different rooms because _puberty_ meant fewer awkward sibling moments. Yay! On the other hand, she preferred plotting with Dipper to be done face-to-face. That, and being grounded sucked even worse when her twin wasn’t automatically stuck in her room to share the boredom. Boo.

“What’cha mean?” She asked from where she lay on his bed, head hanging upside down over the edge of the mattress. “You actually think this would be hard to pull off?”

She did her best pre-friendship Pacifica impression and scoffed.

“What? No.” Dipper said.

Okay, so maybe their Twinpathy (twin telepathy, for the uninformed) wasn’t at its peak- it was two twenty-three in the morning! She had her off moments. 

“I just meant what do you wanna tell Mom and Dad?” He asked. 

Mabel grinned. It had already been decided that they’d help and participate. She didn’t need to come up with an argument to persuade him. 

“Oh, that’s easy,” she said. “We can just, y’know, make a quick stop on our way to meet with Grunkle Ford. I’ll call in that favor Grunkle Stan owes me. He’ll cover for us.”

Finding out he had a second uncle had been a shock for Dad. Having the real Grunkle Ford meet the family had been interesting. But their Grunkles cared about her and Dipper, and they were family. A bunch of long talks and questions helped, most of which Ford even had an answer for, obviously leaving out all the weirdness. He won over their parents with repeated visits, Skype calls, projects with her and Dipper, and at one point he said something about college…

Basically, if Mabel and Dipper wanted to meet up with their Grunkles, even during the school year, whatever they did together would look very impressive on college applications. Grunkle Ford had used bigger words and Grunkle Stan had used a lot _more_ words to sell it to their parents.

Mabel knew they really meant ‘We miss our fantastic niece and nephew too much, let us kidnap them once in a while’, but she could keep a secret. 

Besides, knowing Grunkle Ford, he could probably even get them college _credit_. 

“You sure?” Dipper asked, eyes back on his phone. “Last week, you wanted to save that one for”

“There is no nobler pursuit than this!” Mabel declared, getting immediately shushed by her brother. 

She clamped her hands over her mouth, eyes darting to the door and ears straining for wakened parents. Five seconds passed in silence and she grinned. 

“We’ll bring Pacifica along for the ride.” She added, well aware that Dipper was distracted.

“Uh-huh.” He said absently. 

Three…

Two…

“Wait, _what_?” He exclaimed, voice cracking. He whirled around on her, face burning red. “When did that come up?!”

“Just now!” Mabel giggled. She’d just sent a message explaining things to the Northwest heiress. “Weren’t you listening, Dip-Dop?”

“ _Mabel_!”

—————

“Sam,” Tucker whispered for the benefit of his roommates. Also, because short of an actual emergency, raised voices at un-Godly o’clock had to violate some sort of law. He reached over his head where it lay on Danny’s stomach, waving his phone at Sam. “I need a quick punch-up.”

Sam groaned out something decidedly unfriendly. She rolled in closer to Danny and pressed her face against his shoulder, loose grip on his right arm tightening. 

Tucker, well aware of the dangers he trifled with, nonetheless threw caution to the wind. Danny, he figured, would provide a buffer of at least two seconds if he had to flee.

“Sammy.” He called sotto voce.

“I,” Sam said, all but growling. “Refuse to respond to that name for at least another hour.”

Tucker, in response, tapped her forearm with the edge of his phone case.

“Oh, gracious Angel of Death,” he said, utterly deadpan. “Please bestow on this lowly Tech Lord a bit of the wisdom you gained from your thirty-seven writing courses.”

“You guys don’t have to whisper,” Danny said before Sam could retort. The halfa shifted, muscles flexing and relaxing as he stretched. “I’m not asleep.”

“You should be.” Sam said, still miserable, though more gentle. 

“How’re you feeling?” Tucker asked, turning his head toward Danny. 

He’d gotten a call from his parents last night. Tucker and Sam had devised their system of literally sleeping partially on top of Danny to discourage him from sneaking out solo in the middle of the night. 

An extended conversation with Jack and Maddie would leave him worn out and tense, and proximity became an outright necessity. The Fentons weren’t exactly bad people, but they were scientists and ghost hunters _before_ they were anything else. Their priorities weren’t right.

Tucker and Sam couldn’t have gotten him out of that house soon enough.

“I’m f”

“Man,” Tucker said, propping up on one elbow to frown at him. “I _know_ you weren’t about to drop the fucking F word.”

Tucker had made his feelings on the word ‘fine’ _abundantly_ clear after hearing it a few hundred times too many from both his roommates, though Danny was by far the most guilty. Sam actually raised her head and suffered the dawning twilight outside to glare at him. 

The halfa, chastised, blew out a breath.

“I don’t know.” He mumbled.

Danny scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Can I get up? Wanna make some coffee.”

Tucker traded a look with Sam. Whatever had been said last night, it hadn’t sparked any outright panic. And Danny wasn’t screaming to fly back to Amity or mumbling about Dani, so he probably didn’t have any dire concerns weighing on him. Neither of them liked interrogating him anyway. If they had to, they could just call Jazz later.

He shrugged and sat up, yawning. Sam lamented the loss of her pillow as Danny walked into the kitchen.

“Sammy,” Tucker trilled, waving his phone again. “Pretty please?”

With a huff, Sam rolled upright and snatched Tucker’s device, scowling down at the screen blearily. Satisfied, Tucker flopped down onto his back, luxuriating. 

Of all their worldly possessions, the king-sized pullout couch bed ranked just below his tech. Every night he still marveled at how it could actually fit three grown adults comfortably. Sure, the three of them got kinda cozy, but they’d’ve slept like that anyway. Their neighbors down the hall and even the sales rep they got it from had given them wry, knowing looks. The kind that silently accused them of being impractical, just a bunch of kids and good luck getting _that_ thing up all those stairs and through the door. 

Tucker laughed at them. _He_ had a roommate with powers of intangibility that he could apply to anything he touched. Tight corners? Walls? Narrow doorways? HA! The three of them would never have to pay for movers again. 

Stairs were still a pain, though. 

“What am I looking at?” Sam asked, blinking a few times, flipping her one-sided curtain of hair back. 

“The profile page detailing the availability and exploits of Theo, an affordable and little known yet highly-rated DJ,” Tucker said, raising a hand with a finger pointed skyward. “And whose face will appear _conveniently_ often whenever the school event coordinator browses for talent.”

Sam stared at him, face blank. 

“What?”

Tucker let his hand fall back to the mattress and pushed himself up.

“Read the newest text chain.”

He shuffled into the kitchen, passing Danny to look for some food. The fridge yielded a half-eaten breakfast burrito. Not much, but it would pass as an appetizer to start his day. 

“Why aren’t the Hamato’s on here?” Sam asked as he slid a plate into the microwave to nuke it. 

“You know how Leo gets about leaving New York.” Danny said before Tucker could answer. 

Sam looked up sharply, eyes narrowed on Danny. Tucker turned toward his oldest friend with a pointedly raised eyebrow. 

Danny, realizing his mistake, muttered.

“I’ve been awake for about two hours.”

Which meant he’d slept for, charitably, three. And two hours he’d probably been stewing, in silence, alone.

Tucker held out his hand.

“Give.”

Danny frowned, holding his brand new cup of coffee with both hands.

“Danny,” Sam said shortly. “Surrender the caffeine and get back over here.”

Danny almost whined, passing Tucker the cup reluctantly and trudging back to bed. Tucker followed after him and shut the blinds. 

“I rested,” Danny argued even as he lay back down. “I was comfortable- I tried to sleep.”

“Try again,” Sam said, unsympathetic as she pulled his arm around her. “Just for another hour. Tucker,” she reached over Danny and slid his phone toward him. “It looks good. Set up a gig Danny and I can do.”

Tucker hummed, retrieving his first breakfast and his tablet before he sat down. He leaned against the couch’s backrest, mulling over possibilities. 

“You wanna be a hair specialist?” Tucker asked, mostly as a joke.

Danny snorted, and Sam rolled her eyes so hard that, even closed, she risked detaching her retinas.

“I’m not styling hair for five hundred plus kids.”

Tucker snickered. He took a bite of his burrito, poking at Danny’s hip with his toes. 

“Danny, ideas?” He asked softly.

A beat passed.

“Let’s go with catering.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Wait, seriously?” Catra asked, snatching up another pair of socks. She had Adora on speakerphone while she gathered her laundry. “It’s that easy?”

_“There aren’t any rules against it,”_ Adora said, trailing off a bit. _“None that I can find, anyway.”_

Catra smirked, kicking the laundry basket across the floor toward the door, tossing in the jeans hanging off her desk chair as an afterthought. 

“You sound disappointed,” she said, picking up the phone on her way out. “You had a plan to smuggle Luz and Amity in, didn’t you?”

_“Wha~t? Noooo.”_

“Oh my fucking God, you did,” Catra laughed, dropping her phone on top of the full basket to carry. “You made contingencies and everything. You probably even assigned everyone code names. Lemme guess, you put down Seahawk as the distraction.”

_“Hey,”_ Adora said. _“Seahawk is the perfect distraction.”_

Catra conceded the point- lighting shit on fire _did_ tend to get people’s attention. 

And yet, Adora hadn’t denied making an elaborate plan. Catra could picture her girlfriend’s unconvincing ‘totally-not-scheming’ face. Adora was a terrible actress. She shook her head, dumping her laundry into the washing machine and starting the cycle.

“I’m dating a nerd.”

Adora only laughed on her end. Catra made her way back to her room, smiling at the sound.

_“Are you gonna tell Luz?”_ Adora asked.

Catra flopped onto her bed, laying on her side with her phone in front of her.

“She’s still with the witches,” Catra said, eyes flicking to the corner of her phone screen. Only mid-afternoon on a Sunday. “I’ll tell her when I see her tomorrow.”

_“I keep forgetting she can’t get calls or texts over there.”_

Catra huffed. They referred to the Boiling Isles as ‘over there’ like Luz was overseas, not in a different dimension. 

In hindsight, the way they found out Luz could do magic had been kind of funny. Adora, sore after an especially rough day of practice, needed ice for a few bruises. Luz, ever eager to help, claimed she had it covered and pulled out a palm-sized slip of paper from her bag. 

Right there, in full view of the… ugh, Best Friend Squad, a brief flash of light preceded Luz _materializing_ a short cylinder of ice into her hand. The freshman only realized what she’d done halfway through the process. 

“Soooo,” Luz said, shifting nervously, eyes darting between the four seniors, who’d been rendered speechless. “Uh… heh, funny story, you know my other friends? The ones I’m usually kinda vague about?”

The revelation and the following explanation had been a very essentially _Luz_ moment. To hear the witch-in-training tell it, she’d gotten too used to using magic casually on the Boiling Isles. Add her constant state of exhaustion to that and she slipped up.

Again, funny.

In hindsight.

In the moment?

“What the fuck,” Catra said, eyes wide. “Luz, seriously, _what the fuck_.”

Seeing _actual_ magic? Dead-ass, fairytale-tier, physics-defying _magic_? 

Really fucking cool, if ever so slightly terrifying.

“Wait,” Adora said. “Are there dragons? I wanna see dragons!”

Some of them adjusted to the news faster than others. 

After _many_ questions had been asked, and some even answered

“Yeah, probably! I’ll get a picture to show you as soon as I see one!”

“I don’t know why the glyphs aren’t working for you, Bow, sorry.”

“Sure, you can take a video! Just, uh, promise not to post it anywhere?”

Catra realized a lot of things about Luz made more sense. The fact that she seemed to suffer from a sleep schedule even worse than Catra’s; her fascination with fantastical creatures and all things weird (though she claimed she’d always been like that); the way that, when she thought Catra didn’t notice, her energy dimmed in the halls, more muted than she was around their friends.

And when Luz talked about the Boiling Isles, free from the secrecy?

Catra knew exactly where all Luz’s focus and passion went.

Catra had brought the freshman into their circle on a whim more than anything. She hadn’t suddenly developed a hero complex or… bloomed socially. The former was more of an Adora thing and the latter sounded like something Perfuma would say. She’d been in a weird mood, hadn’t felt as anti-social as usual, right place, right time, _cat-ears_ hoodie. Freak accident, once-in-a-lifetime thing.

She didn’t regret the impulsive decision once. Whatever Luz chose to do, Catra would miss having her around once they graduated.

Graduated.

Against her will, Catra’s eyes ricocheted off the ceiling to her desk, zeroing in on one specific drawer. The envelope inside, the one with her letter of acceptance, sat inside, taunting her. She scowled.

( _“Catra, I got in! I’ve been accepted!”_

_“Oh… that’s great, Adora.”_ )

And then Catra changed the subject. 

Like she’d been doing every time college came up. Adora had noticed how uncomfortable the topic made her- hence the arrangement they eventually made. Neither of them actually named their preferred university. 

Per Catra’s request.

( _“I just… I don’t wanna think about being separated again, okay? I… I like this. I like_ us _, right now.”_ )

Adora, being Adora, had gotten that look, the one that threatened to turn her blue eyes to steel, when she thought she could figure out how to fix something. That was just _Adora_ all around, trying to help, assuming that if she _could_ solve a problem, she just _had_ to, doubly so when it concerned anyone she cared about. Catra didn’t want it fixed, though, and she explained as best she could. 

( _“It’s not forever, okay? Maybe I’ll get mad or whatever later, but… Look, it sucked when you left. I know, no, just listen. I was angry at you. I tried to forget about you. I tried,_ really _tried to make myself hate you, because I thought it’d hurt less that way. It fucking sucked. The whole thing fucking sucked, and it’s fucking stupid, but I just wanna have_ this _for a while longer.”_ )

Catra knew, she _knew_ it would be smarter to rip the bandage off, to just tell each other where they applied. Some stupid part of her brain still associated the separation with the hell she’d been through and how shitty it felt, though. She’d only just gotten Adora back in her life, and the whole aspect of being able to actually express all the affection she’d buried for years- the idea that Adora _wanted_ her the way Catra wanted Adora- still felt new. 

Catra didn’t want to confront the possibility that she might have to let that feeling go.

She knew she had to, at some point. She _would_.

_“Catra?”_

Catra swore in her head, tearing her eyes away from her desk. She forced her mind back toward the dance, blurting out the first thing in her head.

“What are you wearing?”

The sound of an aborted breath and a choke came through her phone. 

Catra’s face burned.

_‘Context! Give context when you speak, you useless lesbian!’_

“For prom!” She added hastily, covering her eyes with one hand. “We need to coordinate. Outfits. Colors.”

_“Yeah,”_ Adora said, her voice coming through a little strained. _“Right. Colors.”_

Catra hissed out a strangled breath through her teeth, embarrassment slowly fading as they fell back into a more comfortable back-and-forth. She immediately vetoed Adora’s joking suggestion of pink, if only so they didn’t match Glimmer’s hair. 

They’d talk about it.

_“Red?”_

“Definitely red.”

After prom. They’d talk about it.

—————

Amity Blight didn’t know she could miss someone she saw on a regular basis. Of course, before Luz came into her life, she hadn’t had anyone _to_ miss for a very long time. Her relationship with Edric and Emira had been… less than ideal, she didn’t actually enjoy hanging out with any of the ‘friends’ that her parents approved of, and she’d long since burned her bridges with Willow.

And yet, she did- Amity missed Luz, even with her girlfriend (Amity’s fingertips still tingled a little at that word) sitting right next to her. They hadn’t gotten a chance to have an Azura book club meeting for ages- no theories or fan art, or even talking about the latest book in the series. 

It got worse two weeks earlier. 

( _“Amity, you read ahead in your classes, right? Can you help me? Please?”_ )

Amity, who’d probably eat dirt if Luz asked, agreed immediately.

She didn’t regret doing so, and at first, she’d been excited that Luz started visiting the Boiling Isles every day, not just the weekends. Amity couldn’t imagine ever _not_ enjoying more time with Luz.

Except it barely felt like time with Luz. Before, Luz would greet Amity with a different pick-up line every week, some cheesier than others. It was such an absurd, dorky, quintessentially _Luz_ thing to do, and Amity couldn’t help getting flustered and slightly giddy at her adorable girlfriend every time. 

Now, Luz would smile at her and her friends, dig out her notes, and they’d park themselves in Luz’s room to work relentlessly for two hours straight until Luz had to leave again. On the days Luz needed help with Illusions or Plants, Amity barely got to speak with her. 

Amity felt bad wanting more from Luz, especially as tired as she’d been. She reached a breaking point, though. Rather than dive straight into her feelings- because, much as she’d grown up in the past year, just, _no-_ she decided to be circumspect and address a curiosity first.

“Luz?” Amity asked. Amity waited until her girlfriend looked up from her notes, and she noted the dark circles under her eyes with concern.

—————

“Is there a reason you suddenly want to get ahead in class?”

Amity’s innocent question brought Luz’s mind to a screeching halt.

For the past two weeks, she’d been sneaking away to the Boiling Isles in the afternoon after school, timing her trips carefully so that she made it home again before her mom finished her work shift. 

_Three_ weeks ago, on Monday, Catra had told her that the seniors figured out a way for Luz to take Amity to prom. 

Prom. With Amity. And her human friends. 

Luz was _psyched_. 

She’d practically forgotten her persisting exhaustion in her excitement, and she could barely focus on anything else the entire day. She told her mom first thing before dinner. It was basically the _only_ thing they talked about at dinner. 

Once Luz explained how Catra and Adora planned to work around the minor detail that she was a freshman, her mom had been surprisingly enthusiastic about it. 

“Oh,” Camila said. “You’ll be able to take a weekend away from your witch studies, won’t you?”

She’d said it in the middle of washing dishes, casually, almost like an afterthought.

Luz had frozen. 

Clearly, Camila prioritized high school over Hexside. Maybe she just considered being a witch an extracurricular activity. 

Luz swallowed what she’d been about to say- if she could actually take time off from _school_ for a few days- and nodded.

“Sure.” She said quietly. 

Hence, the secret day trips to the Owl House and Luz’s struggle to get ahead in all her classes- all so that she could actually _take_ a weekend off to focus on Amity and prom. 

_‘Prom date with Amity. Prom date with Amity. Prom date with Amity.’_

Such had been her mantra, her _motivation_ , for the past two weeks, through all the extra reading and classwork and exhaustion and reduced time for friends. 

Apparently, though, she’d _neglected_ one significant detail while pouring all her focus into her mission. Several pieces fell into place in her fried brain.

One- Amity didn’t know why Luz had been working so hard, therefore

Two- Luz hadn’t told her, which meant

Three- Amity probably didn’t even _know_ about prom.

And that brought Luz to a rather distressing conclusion

_‘I DIDN’T ASK HER!’_

“Luz?” Amity prompted again.

With nowhere to retreat and regroup and no back up- Willow and Gus hadn’t been able to make it that afternoon, having other obligations- Luz fell back on her usual ‘on the spot and under pressure’ strategy.

She scrambled.

“Hey, good question,” Luz said, trying to shoot Amity a sly smile while she reached for her bag with one hand. She ended up overextending and falling backward onto her side, failing to maintain balance and eye contact at the same time. Embarrassed, she chuckled, and sat up. “I’ve got one for you, first.”

Amity blinked at her. Luz covered her less-than-stellar segue with a wink and finger guns, which never failed to leave Amity’s face dusted pink. Luz dug through her bag for a plant glyph, tapping it with her fingertips. 

The bouquet Luz had been going for came out looking about as exhausted as she felt. She shot the flowers a frown and tossed all but the healthiest of them out her window. She sat up on her knees and inched toward Amity. Carefully, she tucked the stem behind Amity’s right ear, sitting back to appreciate the look with a smile. Luz had no idea _what_ sort of flower she’d conjured, only that the petals matched Amity’s amber eyes, now wide and staring at her with rapt attention.

“Amity,” Luz said. “Will you go to prom with me?”

“Yes.” Amity blurted, almost before Luz even finished asking. 

Half a beat passed.

“Prom is… what, exactly?” Amity asked, a bit sheepishly.

Luz, relieved for all that she’d nearly _skipped_ the critical step of asking, let out a tired laugh.

“Think grom,” Luz said. “Except without the monster fighting. Just dressing up for music and dancing.”

“Oh,” Amity said. She smiled softly. “That sounds really nice.” She paused, tilting her head. “Is that why you’ve been working so hard?”

“Yeah,” Luz sighed. “Can’t believe I almost forgot to ask. Sorry I could only come up with the one flower. I’ll do something more impressive when I ask you to grom this summer and”

“No!” Amity blurted, taking one of Luz’s hands. 

Luz startled, blinking. She glanced down at their joined hands and back up at her girlfriend.

“Uh, I mean,” Amity said, fumbling. “I liked- I like this. This was good.” She touched the flower with her free hand. “And I, um… I want to ask _you_. To grom. This year.”

Amity’s voice dimmed nearly to a whisper, though she kept eye contact throughout with a shy smile. Luz couldn’t help grinning and stifled a giggle, instead squeezing Amity’s hand. 

“Okay.”

Luz darted forward and kissed Amity’s cheek.

“I’ll ask you _next_ summer.” 

Her girlfriend’s face promptly burned bright red.

Somewhere in the house, Eda sneezed.

“Kid! Are you being gross and adorable again?”

Luz laughed. 

—————

“You’re telling me you have a _grappling hook_ in your carry-on right now?” Pacifica asked, reasonably incredulous. 

“Yep!” Mabel said, swinging her legs back and forth while they waited for boarding call to start. “Gotta be ready for anything, Paz!”

Pacifica _really_ shouldn’t have been surprised- the Pines family, by and large, spent a significant portion of their time seeking out weirdness. Dipper and Mabel’s parents seemed average enough, but for all Pacifica knew, they moonlighted as… costumed vigilantes, or something. 

Of course Stanley Pines would know how to smuggle a grappling hook through airport security in a backpack. Never mind the minor detail that he’d probably never _been_ on a commercial flight before. Why wouldn’t he clue in his great niece to his tricks?

Pacifica turned to Dipper, sitting on her other side.

“We won’t actually need it,” Pacifica asked, a little warily. “Will we?”

If they did, it wouldn’t exactly be a deal breaker. Pacifica had been through her share of adventures with the twins Pines in the few years she’d known them. They were among the criminally small number of people whose company she actually enjoyed. No amount of weirdness would change that. 

She’d gladly accept any forewarning she could get, though.

“I doubt it,” Dipper said, shrugging. He looked up from whatever notes he’d been hunched over. “At least not for this part of the trip.”

He leaned a little closer, whispering conspiratorially.

“Mabel was hoping we’d have to rescue you at the last minute.”

Pacifica stifled a snort of laughter that would’ve sent her mother into a conniption. _That_ , she believed. For all that Mabel was genuinely the nicest person Pacifica had ever met, she did, in fact, have a list of people she unrepentantly disliked. 

Mabel called it her list of ‘Butt-heads and Fart-eaters’.

Because of course she did. 

Priscilla and Preston Northwest were near the top of said list.

Since the twins found out Pacifica’s primary residence was in California too,

( _“Of course the mansion’s just a summer home.”_ )

they’d made an effort to keep in touch and see her at every opportunity. Mabel’s first suggestion for almost any problem Pacifica had usually ran along the lines of ‘Let’s take you literally anywhere your parents _aren’t_!’

The situation with her parents hadn’t required many rescues in the past year, though.

That… didn’t necessarily mean that their relationship had improved. When Pacifica told her parents- their ‘conversations’ ended sooner if she just skipped past asking, and she usually had one of their approximately dozen credit cards on hand anyway- that she’d be taking a week to travel, her mother only said

“Don’t cause any scandals.”

Her father didn’t comment. Or even look up.

Pacifica suspected they’d given up on molding her into what they wanted. Maybe even given up on her entirely. 

Just because she wanted to try being _better._

The initial boarding call for business class interrupted her thoughts before they got too depressing. She stood up and grabbed her bag, turning to the twins, who just looked at her.

“Are you coming, or not?”

“Economy hasn’t” Dipper said.

“I got us into first class,” Pacifica said. She smirked, flipping her hair back. “Isn’t that why you brought me?”

Dipper just blinked, eyebrows raised.

“Paz,” Mabel said, frowning. “You know we don’t care about the money, right? We’d still be your friends.”

Pacifica tensed, momentarily frozen under Mabel’s earnest concern. Concern that struck a nerve Pacifica didn’t know she even had. She puffed her chest a little and stiffened her posture, a trained response to prevent fidgeting under scrutiny.

“I know.” She said quietly.

Mabel shot up and hugged her.

“Good.”

Dipper placed a hand on her arm soon after. 

Pacifica breathed a long sigh, rigid posture relaxing a little. _This_ made the Pines her favorite people. She felt like a _person_ with them, not a pretty face or a list of hollow achievements. And being decent came to them naturally, like breathing air. 

Barring the occasional foray into illegal activities. Most of them didn’t count anyway, as there were usually extenuating, supernatural circumstances.

“Thanks for this.” Dipper said once they got in line.

Pacifica shrugged. 

“It’s on my father’s credit card.”

“Never mind,” Dipper said. “I rescind my gratitude.”

“I’m suddenly craving all the snacks I can carry.” Mabel said, her expression a little too innocent to believe.

Dipper nodded in solidarity with his sister.

Pacifica laughed under her breath. 

—————

“Is it weird that we have friends who are still in high school?”

Danny blinked. He stopped mid-text to look up at Sam, still focused on dyeing his hair. Not an unfamiliar routine, whenever they went anywhere likely to have cameras or that required an ID. Danny arguably stood to lose the most if too many people recognized him as Fenton, leaving them just a few inferences away from making a connection to Phantom. Colored contacts and occasional dye jobs were one of the things Tucker and Sam insisted on. 

Hence, the newspaper spread around the backseat of the car. ‘Derek’, the caterer, would be blond.

“Why?” Tucker asked from the driver’s seat before Danny could answer. “Too cool for the Pines now, Manson?”

“Dipper and Mabel are great,” she said, holding Danny’s bangs up from his forehead. “I just can’t get around the _high school_ part. That part of our lives feels so… foreign, now. So,” she wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Normal.”

Danny looked back at his phone, finishing a text to Dani. He’d already checked in with the rest of his people, his ‘Amity’, and he felt much calmer.

“I can barely remember Casper High.” He said.

“Probably because you were barely in class.” Sam muttered, fingers massaging his scalp more than was likely necessary.

“Man, I _was_ there,” Tucker said. “And I only remember the classes we had with Lancer. Did we even learn anything?”

“Self-awareness.” Sam said immediately, pausing in her work. She stared at nothing for a minute and grimaced. “Definitely self-awareness.”

“Are you accusing us of growing up? Of being _adults_?” Tucker asked, making a show of indignation and gasping.

“Technically, I died freshman year,” Danny deadpanned. “So Sam _must_ be talking about you.”

Tucker barked a startled laugh. Sam huffed, though Danny noticed her lips twitch upward. 

“Your humor needs work.”

“Excuse you.” Danny said.

Danny spent the vast majority of his adolescence living as a half-ghost under the same roof as his ghost-hunting parents. He and his closest friends routinely took cues from Supernatural, one of the few shows with a cast that endured more bullshit than he did. The only other half-ghosts in existence that he could relate to were a clone of himself and a certifiable fruit loop. 

Considering most of his life read like a joke with the ultimate punchline (he’s _dead_!), Danny would be the most cynical person in the world without a sense of humor.

He had _It’s Terror Time Again_ set as his fucking alarm. 

“I have a _fantastic_ sense of humor.”

“Mhm,” Sam said dryly. “The Ghost Zone trembles before your rapier wit.”

A text came through before Danny could summon a retort.

“Mabel says they’ve landed.”

—————

“You sure this won’t blow up?”

Dipper threw half a mock glare at Danny over his shoulder. The two of them had left the others at the hotel while they made a discreet trip to the venue for the dance. Dipper’s involvement in the larger plan required the sort of setup that looked extremely suspicious to the uninformed. Drawing runes and cryptic symbols gave most people that impression, he’d found. 

Danny had come along for obvious reasons, since they _were_ technically trespassing. 

Intangibility and invisibility- truly an underrated combination.

That, and his glowing green eyes as Phantom functioned a bit like black lights in the dark. A fantastic resource for working with materials intentionally invisible to the naked eye.

“If I didn’t know what I was doing,” Dipper said, referencing his notes again. “Trust me, an actual explosion would be the tamest way this could go wrong.”

“That inspires confidence.” Danny muttered, mostly teasing.

“I tested this half a dozen times,” Dipper said, going back to work. “Obviously on a much smaller scale, but”

“Relax,” Danny said. “I trust you with this. You and your sister are the presidents of weirdness.”

Dipper snorted.

“That means a lot, coming from a half-ghost.”

Danny merely shrugged. They worked in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again.

“So, Pacifica.”

Dipper froze.

_‘Oh no.’_

“You didn’t mention she was coming.”

Dipper groaned. Danny had been a good sport about having to fly back from the airport, especially considering they hadn’t gotten any advance notice. Their car only had room for five people. Dipper didn’t _mean_ to impose on anyone, he just got hyper focused on his part of the plan to help Ron, and other things sort of fell away from his head space when he had a project.

_Mabel_ , on the other hand…

“It was Mabel’s idea.” He said, shoulders hunched as if to ward off further questions.

“You don’t seem too upset about it.”

Of course, Danny hadn’t actually _asked_ any questions.

Dipper’s thoughts and feelings on Pacifica were… less complicated than he could, and sometimes _did_ make them out to be. Not as simple as his first impressions were, obviously. He’d never been favorably inclined toward anyone who singled out his sister for ridicule and humiliation. Strip away the Northwest name, though- the condescension, the money, the obsession with appearances- and Pacifica still had substance underneath it all. 

Doing the same to, say, Priscilla and Preston Northwest would leave behind an actual harpy and a neanderthal who considered Pavlov a shining model for child rearing. 

Seriously. Pacifica’s parents were _the worst_. 

Pacifica, on the other hand, had a sharp wit and a sarcastic sense of humor, genuine competence with a variety of things, surprising ferocity with regard to people she cared about, and, as Dipper once noted at thirteen that first summer, looked nice in a dress. Or practically anything, honestly. She possessed the sort of confidence that could see her through a day wearing a burlap sack.

Dipper had been more cautious about his attraction to Pacifica than he had with Wendy. A little bit of hindsight helped him figure out he’d been sort of consumed by the redhead, more an infatuation with someone he _still_ severely admired. He didn’t dive into obsession over Pacifica, and curbed any impulsive decisions like making charts or elaborate plans just to have a conversation. The heiress had, early on, needed real friends more than anything, so Dipper resolved to focus on that. 

Granted, he was forever the infinitely more awkward twin, and he still put his foot in his mouth more often than he cared to think about. He also might have come off as flirtatious sometimes, _completely by accident,_ obviously! Comments like ‘cute’ or ‘wow’ or ‘You are insanely awesome’ just… slipped out of his mouth. He’d gotten better at being a little more subtle later in high school.

Dipper thought about the scene they’d left at the hotel. Pacifica had been talking Mabel down from attending the dance in a sweater-dress, (home made, of course), vocally mortified when his sister presented a creation baring googly eyes. The heiress bargained with Mabel that she’d help put glitter in her hair if she agreed to wear one of Pacifica’s dresses. She won Mabel over with the promise that she could bedazzle the dress to her liking. 

Dipper had watched the exchange with fond amusement, particularly Pacifica’s passion about the clothes.

… Which probably _didn’t_ count as subtle.

“No,” Dipper said finally. “I’m really not.”

For all that he might have been a massive nerd, Dipper actually entertained the idea that tomorrow night could be fun.

Hell, maybe he’d do something insane. Like ask Pacifica to dance.


End file.
